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Through the Deadlands, Part Three: A Place Among the Beasts

November 4, 2026
Through the Deadlands, Part Three: A Place Among the Beasts
This entry is part 3 of 3 in the series Through the Deadlands

Through the Deadlands
  • Through the Deadlands, Part One: A Lethal Journey
  • Through the Deadlands, Part II: The Mission of an Archer
  • Through the Deadlands, Part Three: A Place Among the Beasts
By Rebecka Jones, Staff Writer

โ€œYou tell me you arenโ€™t old, then move as slow as a sloth,โ€ Sylvia scoffs from above me, her feet digging into a crevice on the side of the mountain. The pebbles falling onto my face from my sisterโ€™s footsteps, along with her mildly insulting comment that I won’t acknowledge while Iโ€™m trying to focus, distract me from the height weโ€™ve reached in the last three hours, so I donโ€™t complain.

Except for a few quick snacks and bathroom breaks, we have not stopped our trek up the mountain. Mirae, Sylvia, and I arose before the sun awoke to begin our journey. My nerves were a jumble of shaky limbs and a thumping heart, but the rush through my veins strengthened my courage to finally meet the mountain face-to-face.

Iโ€™ve traveled to this mountain at least three times in the past couple of weeks, but I always found myself frozen when the peak was before me. The idea of trying to climb this thing, unaware of the rocky terrain and the wild beasts that lurked up there, was nothing my middle school rock-climbing club had me for. I made long journeys through different forests, plains, and devastated towns, but this mountain is the only other place within a thirty-mile radius of the farm that I had yet to venture to. We could fall into dark caverns, run out of food and water and struggle to breathe from the elevation and toxic air, or run into those deadly radiotoxic zombiesโ€ฆif any of them are on this mountain.

I believed that was my reasonable excuse for not climbing the mountain yet, but there was always that small part of me that was afraid of what Iโ€™d discoverโ€ฆor not discover up there. I was plagued every night by the thought of never finding a safe place for Sylvia and me to stay, so I was afraid to climb up that mountain and find nothing but devastation for miles and miles. What would I say to my sister then? That thereโ€™s nothing left for us but flesh-eating creatures and ash-filled lands? I couldnโ€™t bear to see the color drain from her eyes if I had to tell her.

Those thoughts still flood my mind as we make our way into the fourth hour of the climb. They fill up every other thought in my brain because Iโ€™m actually climbing the mountain now, so Iโ€™m working harder on finding crevices to hold onto and rest my feet on. I may be climbing up into the unknown where I could either discover victory or tragedy, but I at least want to be alive to see it.

Without looking down, Iโ€™d say weโ€™re more than a thousand feet up the mountain, which is making good time, but my arms and legs have been aching for the last hour, and my lungs feel like theyโ€™re fighting for air. I donโ€™t mention any of that to the girls, however, because Sylvia has been complaining about her sore feet since hour one. Thatโ€™s enough whining for the both of us. Mirae, on the other hand, has shown no sign of exhaustion, her steps focused, breaths steady, and eyes alert.

The woman is strong and determined; Iโ€™ll give her that, but my chest is still tight from what she told us last night. Wellโ€ฆwrote to us. A space station with a living human inside? Flying pods that will take us to Mars, where apparently the rest of the survivors are located? It wasnโ€™t even too good to be true; it was too crazy to be true. I couldnโ€™t wrap my head around how we got scientists to colonize Mars. And what makes Mirae believe weโ€™ll see this space station from the mountain? This is why part of me still believes Mirae isnโ€™t telling the full truth, but I donโ€™t want to ruin my sisterโ€™s hopes.

Which is why Iโ€™m still here, pushing through my quaking bones and protesting lungs.

Sylvia is climbing above me, with Mirae taking the front and guiding us. Weโ€™re currently hanging off a steep rocky slope, the only things keeping us from plummeting to our deaths being the rope connecting the three of us and Miraeโ€™s strong grip on the rocks. I will admit that Iโ€™m impressed by this womanโ€™s skill; she must be a professional rock climber and hiker because her endurance is endless and her ability to lift herself up from rock to rock is jaw-dropping. She also came prepared with food, water, and the rope.

โ€œAre we almost to the top of this cliff?โ€ Sylvia says in a raspy breath. Besides her complaints about sore feet, I could tell this climb is taking a huge toll on her body in other ways.

I see Mirae nod over my sisterโ€™s head, her pace still the same. Her gesture is confirmed when I spot a plateau looming about a hundred feet above, shielding us from the charcoal clouds and the artificial night caused by the soot. Fortunately, the dim sunlight breaking through the hazy atmosphere helps us navigate up the mountain, but it doesnโ€™t stop the cold from numbing my fingers.

My face feels hot from the exertion and the piercing wind, and I almost canโ€™t feel my lips. It feels like icicles are growing in my lungs as I suck in cold air. I tighten my grip on the rope with one hand as I use the other to reach for the next crevice.

We finally make it to the platform on the side of the mountain, and Mirae pulls the rope until Sylvia and I both get our footing on the stone. My body is like a heavy weight of limbs as I collapse, welcoming the coolness of the rock pressed against my cheek. I hear my sister let out a loud puff of air above me, and I hear the sound of the rope hitting the ground as my sister plops onto the plateau.

After a long moment on the ground, I force my body into a sitting position. Mirae hands us canisters of water, which we both chug down, and takes one for herself. We rest in silence for another long moment before Sylvia exhales.

โ€œI think Iโ€™m done for the day,โ€ she says, her words slurred together. โ€œI literally canโ€™t feel my legs or my lips.โ€

I nod, and Mirae also gestures her agreement. She sets a bag down and shovels through it, eventually pulling out two rolled-up sleeping bags. I muster the strength to get up and help her unroll them, silently questioning the sleeping arrangements considering weโ€™re three people and thereโ€™s only two sleeping bags, but I decide to set that aside for now because Iโ€™m focusing on our current situation.

โ€œWe need to start a fire,โ€ I say as I scan the area. The plateau is mostly rock and dirt, but closer to the rocky wall of the mountain, I spot withering blades of grass and remnants of black tree bark. Thatโ€™ll work.

Once Iโ€™ve gathered the wood and Mirae has helped me start the fire, the three of us sit by the warmth and eat the bread and crackers Mirae salvaged from an abandoned townโ€™s grocery store. I stay on the lookout for zombies or other beasts while Sylvia asks Mirae yes-or-no questions so she doesnโ€™t have to draw in the dirt and to keep the awkward silence away.

I, on the other hand, remain silent because I have no input on murder mystery shows and wearing black boots; I have no idea how their conversation even got to this topic, but itโ€™s nice to hear my sister talking about something other than the unfortunate situation weโ€™re in. It almost makes me believe our lives could be normal again. Almost.

My eyes drift to the smoke from the fire flying up into the dark sky, where it will be trapped among the soot forever. I try to focus my vision past the haze, as if I could see through the toxic barrier and find a place of blue skies and a bright sun. I even look past that, envisioning cities and people living on a small, orange planet.

Iโ€™m really trying to picture the possibilities humanity has on this neighboring planet, imagining Sylvia and me living in a little house. Maybe weโ€™d be goofing off on our video games like we used to, or Iโ€™d be making her rainbow spaghetti on her birthday with the secret stash of food dye I have, assuming we have access to that kind of technology and food on Mars.

Maybe life could be lived on this new planet; even so, it wonโ€™t be the same. Not because weโ€™ll be millions of miles away from our birth planet, but because our parents were taken by that horrible explosion. I thought reaching the age of eighteen meant I would be happy to leave the house and live on my own, having fun with my friends and being free from the responsibilities of an older child, but I couldnโ€™t ever imagine my parents being permanently removed from my life. I no longer have my dad to cheer me on at soccer games or guide me through a manโ€™s adulthood, and I no longer have my mom to teach me how to cook or listen to my worries when Iโ€™m at my lowest. Iโ€™m independent now in a way I would never have wished for. What hurts even worse is that my little sister will have to go through her maturing years alone.

Sylvia wonโ€™t have mom to help her through womanhood or dad to support her. Sheโ€™ll have to look up to me because Iโ€™m her older brother, and I have no clue how to raise someone well. My sister will have to rely on me to give her advice, pick her up when she falls, and be there for her. I know I already try to do those things, but now all of that responsibility falls on me. I donโ€™t want her to have to seek me out for every answer when I canโ€™t help her all the time.

My chest aches. Part of the pain is from the realization of what a new life somewhere else means, but the other part feels moreโ€ฆphysical. Maybe itโ€™s because Iโ€™m high up on a mountain, so the elevation is messing with me. Suddenly the pain grows, so I snap into reality and find my sister literally poking my chest.

โ€œWeโ€™re trying to talk to you!โ€ Her loud voice clears the fog of thoughts in my brain. โ€œAre you alive?โ€

I blink and clear my throat. โ€œSorry, I was just thinking.โ€ Mirae and Sylvia give me curious looks, but I decide not to share and instead look at my sister. โ€œWhat were you saying to me?โ€

โ€œMirae wanted to know if you preferred eating leftover pizza cold or warmed up,โ€ my sister reiterates. The statement is so out of place in my thoughts that I almost laugh, but I decide to welcome the light conversation.

โ€œUh, definitely warmed up,โ€ I say through a chuckle. โ€œI donโ€™t understand how or why people eat it cold.โ€

Mirae smiles and nods in agreement. Sylvia, on the other hand, crosses her arms and scoffs. โ€œIt tastes the same either way! I just eat it cold because it takes too much time to warm it up.โ€

โ€œYou put it in the microwave and press a button. Thatโ€™s it.โ€ I say, to which Mirae lets out a silent laugh.

Sylvia and I go back and forth for a little while until weโ€™re interrupted by her yawns. โ€œI donโ€™t care what you think anymore. Iโ€™m too tired for this.โ€ My sister scoots towards the sleeping bags, slipping inside one and curling up like sheโ€™s in a cocoon. โ€œGoodnight.โ€

I roll my eyes at her dismissal. โ€œGoodnight.โ€

Silence settles over us as Sylvia drifts off into sleep. Mirae and I stare at the fire as it crackles and puffs out a column of smoke into the air. I find myself distracted from my thoughts because Iโ€™m trying to figure out what to say now. Without Sylvia keeping up the conversation, Iโ€™m as silent as this dead world. I also just donโ€™t know what to ask Mirae without making her have to write or gesture her response.

Even with that train of thought, my lips seem to move of my own accord, and I make a fool out of myself. โ€œSo, you like archery.โ€ I phrase it more as a statement than a question.

Mirae breaks her gaze from the fire, those dark eyes finding mine. She simply looks at me without nodding or shaking her head, and our locked gazes make me wish for the ground to swallow me whole. This woman probably thinks Iโ€™m a naive guy who has no idea how to start a simple conversationโ€ฆand sheโ€™d be right, considering the first thing I said was hi after she had almost shot an arrow through my head.

So Iโ€™m surprised when she finally rewards me with a little nod. My chest feels less tight now, as if this were a small victory. Okay, started a conversation. Now I need to keep it going.

โ€œHave you been doing it a while?โ€

Nod. Maybe this isnโ€™t so bad.

โ€œWas it difficult to learn?โ€

Another nod.

โ€œWho taught you?โ€

Stillness.

Mirae turns back to the fire, her shoulders tense. I notice how she pinches a lock of her long, dark hair between her fingers, running her fingernails through it, as if pondering how to respond. After a long and painfully awkward moment, she grabs a stick from the leftover wood pile and starts sketching something in the dirt beside the fire.

When I look at the finished drawing, my brain immediately connects the dots. โ€œYour grandfather.โ€ She nods, so I continue. โ€œYou looked up to him a lot, didnโ€™t you?โ€

Nod.

โ€œI understand now why you trust that your grandfather is leading you to a better place,โ€ I say with a grin, hoping sheโ€™ll see my sincerity. โ€œYou probably had a lot of good memories together, and he must have taught you a lot of things other than archery because you really know how to survive out here.โ€ I chuckle at that, and she smiles in response, the auburn tint in her eyes sparkling in the firelight. โ€œYou trust him so much that youโ€™re willing to take my sister and me with you, even if this space station might not be what we think. I admire that.โ€

I really do. Her faith in him must make her strong. I see the way she stands in confidence, always aware of everything around her, and selfless enough to help strangers find a way out of this deadly place. I looked up to my mom in a similar way; she always had the right words to say to cheer me up. She was also patient when my anger got the best of me, and sheโ€™d be there for me and guide me through it nevertheless. If only she were still hereโ€ฆ

Not going down that route againโ€ฆnot right now.

Mirae must have caught a shift in my expression because her fingers are intertwined in mine. My chest fills with a foreign warmth, drawing all my attention to those sets of sparkling eyes and magnetic dimples. The side of her face was lit up from the fire, her ivory skin glowing like polished gold.

Woah. When did I start noticing details like that on someone?

I immediately shake my observations because come on, Jayden, this woman is just trying to be nice. No need to pick out all these details as if she were a natural phenomenon. Although, arguably, she could beโ€“

Nope. Shut up.

I calm my thoughts, focusing on the comfort Mirae is giving me. Her hands are warm with a few calluses staining her palms, yet her touch is soft. Her smile reaches her eyes as she mouths the words, โ€œItโ€™ll be okay.โ€

Iโ€™ve heard that saying a thousand times, but it feels different coming from her. From someone who seems to understand what itโ€™s like to miss someone they love. She may still get to see her grandfather if we get this space station, while I wonโ€™t ever get to see my parents again, but she can still relate. Maybe she even lost her parents, too, but thatโ€™s not something Iโ€™m going to pry out of her. Especially not right now.

I return the smile and nod. Weโ€™re both still again, but this time it feels comfortable. Her hand slowly falls away, and I canโ€™t comprehend the pinch of longing in my chest when the warmth of her skin is gone. Soon her presence beside me is gone as she walks over to the remaining sleeping bag.

Her eyes find mine again, but the glint is gone, replaced with a serious look. She points to the sleeping bag and raises a brow, and I nearly forget how there are only two sleeping bags, one occupied by Sylvia.

This could get awkward again real quick, so I decide to save us bothโ€”mainly meโ€”the embarrassment and wave it off. โ€œYou take it. I donโ€™t mind sleeping on the ground.โ€

She narrows her eyes as if she is about to protest but then shakes her head. She throws the backpack towards me and gestures for me to use it as a pillow, to which I decide to obey and rest my head on it. I remain on the lookout for other living things out here and find nothing but silence.

After the conversation with Mirae that left me feeling lighter in other ways Iโ€™m not sure how to explain, sleep finds me easily.


We immediately resume our journey the next morning. My body feels recharged, my mind refreshed, so making it to the top of the mountain was easier compared to yesterday. Sylvia was also in a better mood and didnโ€™t complain as much, so maybe all she needed was sleep. Mirae, on the other hand, seemed uneasy. Her shoulders were tense again, her movements frantic, and her eyes seemed focused elsewhere.

I wanted to check in on her during our snack breaks because I thought we were more comfortable with each other after last night, but something kept me from approaching her. I decided to keep my distance instead and give her time to figure it out.

Reaching the top felt like an amazing victory, though it didnโ€™t mean our mission was complete. Now we had to locate the space station, assuming we could see it from here, and make the journey down there. The worst part might be trekking back down the mountain, but Iโ€™m trying not to focus on that right now.

a dark foggy mountain
One mission a success, another a setback. | Nandakumar R (Pexels)

The three of us stand on the broad, rocky arรชte of the mountain, looking out upon the desolate lands. Through the haze, the plains look as vast and deep as oceans, and the collapsing buildings from the visible towns and cities are like fallen statues from up here. The view makes my heart heavy, and all the emotions from last night and the weeks after that threaten to appear in my eyes, but I blink them away.

โ€œOkay,โ€ I say to clear the lump in my throat. โ€œWeโ€™re looking for a space station. What exactly would that look like?โ€

Sylvia shrugs while Mirae keeps her gaze on the view. โ€œMaybe thereโ€™ll be a rocket beside it? I always see them on TV.โ€

I search for rockets or any type of aircraft, only to find nothing of the sort. The three of us are silent for a long moment, looking in every direction. I almost lose hope when Mirae stomps her foot, drawing mine and Sylviaโ€™s attention to her pointed finger. I follow her line of sight towards an opening in the haze to a tall building topped with a dome. Along the spherical roof, thereโ€™s a circular opening. It could be big enough to fit a spacepod.

โ€œThat has to be it, right?โ€ I ask. Mirae looks at me and nods, the only real contact Iโ€™ve gotten from her today.

โ€œLetโ€™s go, then!โ€ my sister exclaims behind us. As I look at the surrounding area of the space station, I find that I canโ€™t share her enthusiasm. I can tell from Miraeโ€™s parted lips and widened eyes that sheโ€™s seeing the same thing as me. 

Sylvia must sense our hesitation because she asks, โ€œWhy are we just standing here?โ€

โ€œOne problem,โ€ I say, my voice hoarse all of a sudden.

โ€œWhat?โ€

โ€œItโ€™s in the middle of the zombie city.โ€

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